Chapter 19: Inside and Outside Dreams

Ke Leya closed her eyes.

She had thought she would be thinking for a long time, but her consciousness sank quickly.

Darkness.

Then a pale white light stabbed in from one corner.

She stood in a hospital corridor.

Her line of sight was low, at a child’s height.

The walls were painted a faded green, the corners full of mildew spots.

“What are you looking at, you money-losing brat.”

The voice came from above her head.

She looked up and saw a blurry face, the corners of the mouth turned down, coated with cheap lipstick.

It was some distant aunt.

She was holding the hand of a chubby boy.

The boy was licking a nearly melted popsicle, sugar water dripping on the ground.

“Sickly thing, bad luck.” The woman tugged the boy and walked around her, as if bypassing trash.

Her heels clicked on the floor tiles and faded away.

The scene shook.

This time she stood in a room.

Furniture was sparse, curtains drawn, the light dim.

The air had a smell of smoke and an even more pungent alcohol odor.

“What the hell did I raise such a thing for!” The man’s roar was deafening.

She didn’t see his face clearly, only the shadow of a raised palm, the wind it brought brushing her face first.

Then came the pain, a fiery explosion on her left cheek.

She lost her balance, staggered back, her spine hitting the cold wall with a dull thud.

“Can’t cure it! Why keep treating her! All the family’s money has been wasted on you!” The woman’s crying tore at her eardrums.

“You’re a debt collector. If I had known you’d be like this, I should have strangled you at birth!”

Something flew over, grazed her forehead, fell to the ground and shattered.

It was a glass bottle.

Shards scattered everywhere.

She didn’t look down.

She just slid slowly down the wall and sat.

Her cheek was burning hot, her ears buzzing, drowning out the curses and crying.

Her line of sight dropped, looking at her hands resting on her knees.

The backs of her hands were covered with blue-purple needle marks and bruises.

In some places, tape was stuck, the edges curling up, revealing pus and ulcerated skin beneath.

Maybe they got tired of scolding.

The scene quieted down.

Footsteps left, the door slammed shut.

With a bang, even the last bit of light was blocked out.

She sat alone in the darkness, her back against the cold wall.

It didn’t hurt.

Her cheek didn’t hurt, the place she hit didn’t hurt.

It just felt a bit numb, a bit… sad.

She raised a hand and touched her burning cheek.

Her fingertips met something wet.

 Was it blood?

 Or the splash from the glass earlier?

Couldn’t tell.

The darkness twisted and stretched.

She was lying on a hospital bed again.

The familiar white ceiling, the monotonous beep of the monitor.

Her throat felt stuffed with coarse sand.

She wanted to cough, but didn’t even have the strength.

Her chest only rose and fell weakly.

In the deep of the night, she would wake up in pain.

She opened her eyes, staring at the thick, impenetrable darkness outside the window.

Sometimes there was the call of a night bird, very far away, as if from another world.

After the only person who cared about her died, she died along with them.

‘It’s so painful…’

—

Ke Leya abruptly opened her eyes.

She gasped, her chest heaving violently.

Cold sweat soaked her nightgown, chilling against her skin.

It was a dream.

Ke Leya sat up from the bed.

Subconsciously, she looked at the chair where Vanessa had been sitting before sleeping.

The chair was empty.

The room was dim.

A bit of twilight from outside the window spread grayly on the floor.

She threw off the covers, stepped barefoot onto the wooden floor.

The cold shot up from the soles.

“Vanessa?”

No answer.

She turned to look at the door.

It was closed.

She walked to the window and yanked open the coarse cloth curtain.

Outside, the sky had passed dusk.

A dark, blue-black weight pressed down.

In the distance, a few lights flickered on.

She suddenly turned, her eyes quickly scanning every corner of the room: under the bed, behind the cabinet, behind the door.

Nothing.

Not there.

Only she was in the room, along with her own rapid breathing.

“System,” she called in her mind.

No sound.

“System?”

Still no sound.

Usually, even if the System was upgrading or playing dead, it would pop up a window or make a noise.

Now there was nothing.

Utter silence in her mind.

She walked to the door and grasped the handle.

The cold brass texture.

She twisted it.

It wasn’t locked.

She pulled the door open.

The corridor was empty.

An oil lamp hung at the staircase at the end, its flame burning quietly.

No footsteps, no figure.

She closed the door, leaned her back against the door panel.

Her heart was beating a bit fast, and a stuffiness started to build in her chest.

She walked to the bedside and sat down, head lowered, looking at her hands.

Her fingers were trembling slightly.

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped white marks that slowly turned red.

It hurt.

But this bit of pain couldn’t suppress the rising panic inside.

She stood up, paced around the room twice, then stopped by the window again.

She pressed her face against the glass, the tip of her nose touching the cold surface, exhaling a small puff of white mist.

Outside, there were still people moving on the street, their shadows stretched long.

No Vanessa.

The sky was completely dark now.

She left the window, walked to the cabinet, pulled open a drawer.

It was empty.

She opened another.

Also empty.

She didn’t know what she was looking for.

Her hands just kept moving: open, close, open again.

Finally, she crouched down, hugged her knees, and curled herself into a corner.

Her eyes felt hot, her nose stung.

She blinked hard, forcing back that unfamiliar dampness.

But when the tears fell, she was still stunned.

A warmth at her eyes, her vision blurring.

Then something landed on the back of her hand, cool.

She looked down.

A small drop of water stain on the skin.

Then a second drop, a third.

She made no sound, but her shoulders started to shake.

Her breathing hitched, her nose clogged and sour.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, gathering at her chin, dripping onto the front of her nightgown.

The fabric quickly darkened in a small patch.

She wiped her hand across her face, wet. The more she wiped, the more came.

‘Useless,’ she cursed herself inwardly.

‘What are you crying for? What’s there to cry about?’

Vanessa left, so what.

The System disappeared, so what.

You’ve been abandoned before, it’s not the first time.

But her heart felt like something was squeezing it, unable to breathe.

She opened her mouth to inhale, and a sob squeezed out of her throat.

She immediately bit her lip to swallow it back.

Only the tears kept flowing.

‘Why why why why why… You’re leaving me again…’